Matricide

By John S., Westford, MA

Slowly the soft particles drop, one on top of another. For hours they dance their little dance in mid-air and play upon the brim of my hat. The flakes blanket the ground for miles, concealing it from my vision. That very blanket muffles any sound which could escape and attempt to be heard, to be recognized. Silence sweeps the surroundings and is only broken by my humming, a feeble effort at tricking myself into acknowledging companionship. It is no use.

I am alone, the only human between the circular horizon which seems to stretch, uninterrupted, for miles. Few forms jut up from beneath the blanket but a few hills and peaks are visible far in the distance. Lying on my back, staring up at the vast, black sky, I ponder man's existence as I study the glowing blue orb held suspended in the heavens. I fondly recall memories of my childhood and the beauty of the globe. It became the origin of life and eventually man in this solar system. Life, so infinite yet such a miracle, that only few planets are blessed with this accomplishment. That in itself fills me with shame knowing that my ancestors destroyed such a masterpiece.

Gases, liquids, and solids swirled through the atmosphere for millions of years. Combining, they formed life and soon after, life evolved into the greatest reasoner, creator, and questioner, Man.

With that new gift, the son of Mother Earth, came her death. It was his underlying hatred towards others that decimated the great sphere. There never was a time when men of different colors, religions, or creeds could live peacefully together, racism was always present. It was this lack of peace between them which caused great wars, wars that have now made that suspended globe uninhabitable for many years. With all the technology and intelligence man was given, one might ask why he could be so ignorant as to commence the total destruction of everything he has ever known. We have come to realize that there is neither rhyme nor reason in the destruction of a whole world.

It wasn't life that was plundered, man's brilliance saved him from that. Instead, it was the willingness to live that was snatched, for the experiences of a whole world had been taken. The flakes I now sit on, and am consumed by, are no longer frigid like the snowflakes of Earth. Temperature does not apply to these plentiful dust particles, stirred only upon contact with a breeze, blowing this way and that, across this red, barren land called Mars. Just as sound is deadened by the blanketing flakes, man's cries of sorrow are neither heard nor recognized. n